


New Beginnings

by TheGracefulDarkness



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel (Movies), daredevil - Fandom
Genre: AU Vlad is alive, Anal Sex, M/M, Russian terms used, Sexual Content, spoilers up to episode 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGracefulDarkness/pseuds/TheGracefulDarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt has been hiding Vladimir Ranskahov for the past three months and the two have grown on each other. Vlad has a proposition for Matt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, (The)GracefulDarkness here. I was watching Daredevil on Netflix and fell in love with a certain Russian prince within four episodes. Mattimir is a new and slow going ship that I am determined to go down with. Please excuse my language in this fanfiction, I have a feeling Vlad and Matt like to swear, more so Vlad. Also I will be posting this to my tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bloggingnstuff and have a feeling I will be posting some more mattimir things on there in the near future, so check it out if you like! Leave messages for one-shot ideas for these two and hopefully I'll write about them. I hope you like this story and please comment below to tell me how to improve or what you enjoyed in the story!  
> EDIT: I fixed the Russian problems from the translator, thanks again LaVie. I also took Kaia_Kasumi advice and spaced out the paragraphs. Enjoy!

Everything is heightened. The way the air tastes of sharp vodka, the thick scent of sweat and sex, the sound of short, panted breaths coming from the mouth beside me, and the feeling of a strong, scarred body against my own. Everything is in focus all at once and it’s driving me insane. Curling my fists into the silken streamed blankets I hold in the urge to shout, to make any type of noise to break my concentration on everything.

  
“You are thinking too hard. Sleep,” growls a heavy Russian accent behind me.

  
“You’re not even tired,” I state. And it’s true, Vladimir’s heartbeat is fast, another impossible sensation to tune out.

  
“I would be, but angry, fast sex you wanted, who am I to say no, yes?”

  
“Exactly, vigorous activity calls for rest. I think you just have an inability to relax.”

  
“This from lawyer, vigilante who takes down mobsters for living,” Vladimir’s voice is muffled as he nips at my neck but he knows I can hear. He knows I can hear just about anything.

  
I roll over to face him, to touch him. There really is no use in me facing a person, rather than for simple appearances. But touching is another matter, touching is even more pleasing than hearing Vlad’s rough voice as speaks. Grazing my fingertips gently across scars old and new I let myself imagine, not for the first time, what Vladimir Ranskahov looks like. He’s shorter than myself but obviously his body is of a sturdier build. Stubble is scattered across his jaw and chin, blond I believe, lighter than the dirty blond that covers his head. Dark… blue, maybe grey eyes. I’d ask the man himself but Vlad tends to lean on the side of caution, or better yet hostility, when it comes to making a connection. Even one as small as hair color.

“Matthew, Matthew… чертов дурак (1)” Vladimir barks, effectively breaking me out of my musings.

“Yes, Vladimir?” I say not unkindly.

He, on the other hand, bites his words, “You do that too much. In another world, you are, pisses me off.”

I smirk. “Jealous my thoughts grasp my attention better than you do?”

Hearing and feeling the shift in the air, I’m ready for the assault before the Russian strikes. The firm grasp on my wrists and the new addition of weight as Vlad straddles me is a very welcome, if not predictable, outcome. “Do I have your attention now, ублюдок? (2).”

Definitely a blond.

“Very much so.” And it’s true, the sounds from the outside world fade away as the promise of sex and Vladimir creep closer and closer.

Hungry lips press against mine, demanding a fast and thorough pace. The scent of arousal permeates the air and a moan breaks through my lips.

“So sensitive, like blindfold over eyes... but permanent,” Vladimir says as he removes one hand from over my wrist to search for lube.

“Yeah, that’s called blindness, Vlad,” I snap.

“Shut up, you are very annoying when you speak,” he says.

Before I can make a retort about who’s the annoying one in the relationship – if you could call it that – two slicked up fingers penetrate my ass. I bite hard on Vladimir’s shoulder for the surprise invasion and that seems to kick things into start. Two fingers become three as he strokes against my prostate. Snaking my free hand downwards I maneuver the lube bottle towards Vlad’s dick and squeeze. Some splashes against my skin, cool gel stringing slightly across heated flesh. Wrapping my fingers around his dick, I make my pace match his strokes.

Our teeth clash together as Vlad shoves his tongue into my mouth. For a while we fight for dominance but eventually I slow the pace down to a bearable speed. Freeing my captured hand out from Vladimir’s grasp I cup it against his neck, feeling for a pulse.

Relishing in the heat and thrum of energy coming from his body, I buck my hips upwards.

“Does my hero want fucked?” He coos.

The growl that barrels out of my chest is answer enough.

“Now, now no need for that. Answer question, Matthew,” Vladimir tuts against my ear.

My growl becomes a groan and I nip at his jaw. He thrusts against my erection and the scream that breaks free cannot be helped. Every contact is an explosion against my skin, a searing heat that cannot be ignored. But I can hold out for a little longer, or that’s what I tell myself at least.

Gripping onto both of his shoulders I thrust equally as hard, drawing moans out of the both of us. With his fingers no longer inside me he grabs my ass and squeezes hard enough to bruise. The emptiness makes me want to let go right then and there; I steel myself and grind my teeth to keep from whining. The tension spreads throughout my body, from my clenched jaw to my gripping hands that dig into Vlad’s shoulders trailing down to my already sore ass in his hands.  
Don’t give in yet, my stubbornness edges on.

“Just say word and this pain goes away. Ask nicely, I may make you cum,” Vlad’s accent is heavier than usual, as it always becomes when he’s about ready to lose himself.

“Not yet,” I ground out.

The frustrated huff he lets out tickles my neck. “Silly American, stupid hero... Always need to be in control until last minute, not tonight. Let go.” It’s hard to make out the words at this point, but the messages comes across well enough. We glare at each other for a long time, or at least I feel his glare and my eyes stare intensely in his direction. Soon our movements stop all together and we’re at a standstill, foreheads pressed together in a tight embrace just waiting for one of us to give.

“Please.”

“What was that?”

“Please. Fuck. Me.”

Vlad smiles, I feel it. Smug bastard.

“All you had to do was ask.”

Scowling, I flip us over and sink myself onto his dick. “On second thought I’ll fuck myself, thank you very much.”

Vladimir let’s go of my ass and slowly trails his hands up towards my hips, guiding me into my thrusts. Letting myself be led by his hold, not minding the control over my body, for now I’m content with just having relief. Placing my hand around my penis, I pump it slowly waiting for the exact moment Vlad will release.

He starts thrusting up as my ass goes down meeting me halfway. Vladimir, taking his hands off my waist I hear the rustle of pillows as he places them behind his head. “Если бы ты только мог увидеть себя сейчас (3),” he purrs.

He’s so close, everything is speeding up and slowing down at the same time. My head becomes dizzy with the scent of Vladimir and my hand begins to speed up, becoming jerkier in the process. “Подожди, давай я (4).” He swats my hand away and strokes.

With hooded eyes and a raspy voice, I groan, “Vladimir…”

In response he just pulls at my dick harder. I wiggle my ass down onto his cock, both of us trying to outlast each other and make the other cum. It’s always a competition with the crime lord. Luckily, I have the advantage of heightened senses and it’s easy to tell just what will do the trick.

Rising up off Vladimir’s dick, far enough that the tip is barely in, I slam myself down. The choked yell that comes from Vlad is echoed by my scream. “Блядь (5)!” I feel the hot liquid shoot up my ass and my head falls forward onto his shoulder. Holding on tightly, I spasm slightly before I cum. Light flashes across my eyes, a white color that’s so bright it outshines the ever-present flames.

Pulling myself off of Vlad, I lay next to him. It stays silent for a few moments, both of us breathing deeply from a good fuck.

A finger swipes idly across my stomach, scooping up a trail of my cum. “Better than vodka,” Vladimir states as he licks his finger clean.

“Better than vodka,” I agree.

“I have been thinking,” Vlad starts.

I chuckle, “That’s never a good sign.”

He wraps his arm around my neck, smothering me into his chest. “Shush, as I said before: Annoying.”

Smiling, I let my tongue slip out and trace the tip over the bud of his nipple. There are much better things I can do with my tongue than just talk.

The slight laugh I get in return is refreshing. “You truly are the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.”

“If only you were so lucky, blow jobs with a forked tongue would be amazing,” I breathe against his nipple making it hard.

“Do not tempt me with ideas, hero. Back to point,” Vladimir backtracks.

“Mmhmm,” I hum as my mouth wraps around the nub.

“Блядь… I have had thought about my death.”

That makes me still; lips enclosed over his nipple but my tongue no longer lapping happily along. Everyone in Hell’s Kitchen; Fisk, Wesley, Owlsey, even Stick have no idea that Vladimir survived the bombings meant to take down the entire Russian mafia. I didn’t even know he was alive; certain that Vladimir met his death in a blaze of bullets and fire where I left him that night. To my surprise four days later I get a call from Claire saying that one of those Russian mobsters was bleeding out in her kitchen. Low and behold, when at her apartment building I could hear the labored breaths of the Russian crime lord from three floors down.

“What about your supposed death?”

Vladimir has been staying in my apartment for three months now, recuperating and lying low in case anyone were to recognize him and from what I can gather Vladimir Ranskahov is a very recognizable man. It was the only way to keep everyone safe from

Fisk, there was no way I was letting Vlad stay in Claire’s home but neither could I kick him to the curb. So every few days Claire would stop by – an awkward reunion in the beginning, what with Claire wanting nothing romantically to do with me – to make sure our Russian friend was alive and semi-well.

It didn’t take long for the sex to begin, about two weeks of living here Vladimir was up the wall. Cursing and spitting out insults left and right about my apartment and being prisoner to a blind lawyer named Matt. Turns out the man was just horny and needed a good lay, ever since it’s been a recurring thing, though the Russian is still upset – that’s putting it mildly – about being homebound.

“I have been thinking,” he repeats, “that I go back to Russia. Moscow, that is. Reclaim what I and my brother have lost, to make right by him.”

“You want to leave? What about Fisk?” The news is more upsetting than I would have thought.

The anger is easily heard in his words, “I will not leave until that долбоёб (6) has a bullet between his head for what he has done to my brother!”

His voice booms throughout the entire room and I cannot help but wince at the piercing in my ears. “Justice. Until he sees justice, Vladimir,” I say quietly.

“Death is justice, life for life. You are just too damned coward to take life yourself,” he snarls.

“Justice is what the people dictate,” my voice raises ever so slightly.

“I am the people,” Vladimir spits as he gets out of bed.

I follow in suit, “Jury. Justice by the jury.”

He goes into the living room while I shadow him, his body taunt and angry. The fridge opens and there’s some rummaging before slamming it shut. As soon as the bottle opens the smell of vodka wafts through my nostrils. Typical.

Walking over to him I place my hand on his shoulder, rubbing my thumb soothingly against the spot where his neck meets shoulder blade. “I’m sorry, I know how touchy the subject of your brother is. Fisk will get what’s coming to him, Vlad, but not through death. There’s been too much death.”

“Too much death,” Vladimir scoffs, “death is everywhere. It is ever present, never will go away. If he will not die today, then tomorrow. But I rather it today and by my hands than tomorrow by someone else’s.”

“Rotting away in a cell for the rest of his life is a crueler fate than death. He will live alone, eat alone, sleep alone, grow old alone, and eventually die alone. Isn’t that what you want, for him to suffer? It just so happens that justice can give just that.”

Vlad takes a swig out of the bottle, the sloshing of alcohol sounds its way through my ears. “That,” he takes another sip, I hear him swallow, “is most annoying thing you said yet.”

“Only because it’s true, Vladimir,” I respond.

“Да (7),” he nods.

I lean against the counter next to him. “So, Moscow. That’s where you grew up?”

Vlad clears his throat. “Yes. My brother and I were princes before being held prisoners.”

“A prince, huh, so I’ve been screwing royalty. That’s a new high for me,” I grin.

He snorts and hands the bottle to me, fingers grazing quickly as I snatch the bottle. I tilt my head back and the smooth liquid glides down my throat. Russian vodka, damn.

“And I’ve been screwing a blind hero, would that be considered low, no?”

“Yes, no. Maybe, I’ve heard I’m very attractive,” the tone in my voice is playful.

Vladimir snickers at that and it’s a much better sound than the angry shouting from before. He always sounds so angry, broken. I wonder if he was like this before his brother was murdered. “You boast about looks you cannot even see,” the note of flirtatiousness in his tone makes me raise an eyebrow.

“I must be somewhat attractive to shag a prince, don’t you agree? Or do you just fuck ugly men?”

Fishing for complements is usually beneath me, but it’s all in good fun.

“You are pretty,” he confesses.

“You sound handsome,” my compliments are just as good as his it seems.

That made him full out laugh. “You like sounds my voice makes,” he states more than inquires.

“Russian accents seem to be my downfall.”

Everything is quiet for a while, well quiet in this room. Outside I can hear three bar fights, two cat fights, an old woman yelling at her husband for missing rent, and a mass of cars honking, revving, and screeching. It’s hard to tune out but each time we pass the bottle of vodka and make that contact, well, everything seems a little more bearable. These past three months have consisted of moments like these, solemn nights passing around a bottle, a distraction for both of us. It’s almost therapeutic in a way, which makes it all the more fucked up.

“You should come,” Vladimir announces after the bottle is polished off.

“To Russia?”

“Yes, much quieter there. Easier on your ears, the smells can be gruesome but we’d be in nice place.”

“You want me to go to Russia… with you?”

The peacefulness fades away as he grunts, “I thought you blind not slow. Yes, with me, Идиот (8).”

Taking the empty bottle, I walk it over to the trash and can it. “I don’t understand, that’s all.”

“What is not to understand? You come or you do not, it is chance to start over from Fisk,” Vlad’s talking quietly now, not angry but still upset.

I look down at the trash, seeing flames and nothing else. “I have a life here already, a job, friends. And it’s not like I could just stand by while you rebuild your crime lord status is Russia.”

“You are lawyer who breaks law, your Foggy has abandoned you since learning of your cause, and the nurse barely looks at you when she visits. Would you rather me go to Russia alone and build my empire with no way to stop me? If you are there maybe things could be different.”

Sighing, I close the garbage can. “You want me to keep you in check?”

Hands slide across my butt pass my hips and dip down towards my crotch. We’re still very much naked. “Among other things,” Vladimir breathes against my ear.

“What about Hell’s Kitchen? It,” he nibbles my ear, “needs protecting.”

“We leave when Fisk is gone. No more threat to city.”

I frown, not liking this turn in conversation, of the prospect of leaving. “There are other threats other than Fisk,” my words sound weak even to my own ears.

“That is what police is for, yes?” Vlad points out.

“Yes, usually, but Hell’s Kitchen doesn’t have the most pure police force,” I scoff.

The Russian growls in annoyance. “Once again because of Fisk. You grasp at tiny straws for reasons to stay in Hell, to have reason to play the devil. Come play devil in Russia, there are plenty demons to slay.”

“I don’t know Russian… but I could learn,” I muse quietly.

Vladimir presses closer. “Plenty Russians know English. I know English, I could teach you. You are fast learner, it will be easy.”

I turn to face him, to watch the flames dance across his face. He’s so close that I can almost make out his features, but no, the fire gets in the way. A world on fire… “Why?”

“Why what?” He mutters while teasing my penis with light, feather-like strokes.

“Why do you want me to come with you?”

The touching stops and my dick’s sudden interest fades. “I have… grown fond of you these past months. You are entertaining to have around,” Vlad admits.

“I’m not going to Russia just to be your entertainment, Vladimir.”

“I do not know what you want me to say. I enjoy your company, you enjoy mine. I want to leave, you have no reason to stay. Easy solution to easy problem, you are simply stubborn... Like you said there is no crueler fate than being alone, Fisk took my brother… I do not want to be alone no longer.”

This coming from the Russian who used to slam me against a wall, fuck me without a word then head into another room is practically like a confession of love. I’m not quite sure how I feel about that, but it’s better than the alternative: being at each other’s throats until one of us ends up dead.

“I’ll think about it,” my voice sounds strong but the words feel like giving in.

Vlad pulls me down by the neck and kisses me hard, his teeth tugging against my lip. “Good, maybe you are not so stubborn of a man after all.”

“I bet I can make you scream before I do, how about a round three?”

“Silly hero, you will not be able to fight crime for a week. Or lawyer, lawyers need to talk, yes? I will make you scream till your voice loses hope of even uttering those fancy English terms.”

Pushing Vladimir towards the bedroom I say, “You’re on.”

**Author's Note:**

> *First things first, I used an online translator from English to Russian. If it’s wrong/off for the real way they would say it or the wrong phrasing, I’m sorry. If you let me know, I’ll fix it and if you like the story and want some more and want to beta for the Russian bits, that would be awesome.  
> 1) Dumb Fuck.  
> 2) Bastard.  
> 3) If only you could see the sight of yourself right now.  
> 4) Stop, let me.  
> 5) Fuck!  
> 6) Mother fucker  
> 7) Yes.  
> 8) Idiot.


End file.
